Morsels
by Vita Orlando
Summary: A series of short fics, in no particular order. Likely to include a variety of cannon pairings and maybe some non-cannon as well.
1. After

**So it seems like many of the best writers in this fandom do or have done lovely drabble series. I don't know that I'll be able to do anything particularly insightful compared to the lovely work they've already given us, but here's hoping. **

**I'm not totally sure what inspirations will strike as I move forward, but I'm planning to include all cannon pairings and maybe some non-cannon as well. **

**Disclaimer: The lovely Shingiku Nakamura owns the rights to the JR characters. The words and stories are mine. This is a non-commercial work written and shared for free. Please support the author by purchasing the cannon works if you are able. **

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_"After" is set in the hours following Misaki and Akihiko's first tutoring session. _

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**After**

Akihiko was not surprised when he heard Takahiro's ring tone burbling up from his cell. Still, he couldn't stop the tremor in his hand as he hovered over the "answer" button. What cowardice was there in retreating until he was prepared to answer the forthcoming accusations? He let the call roll to voicemail and cursed himself.

What on earth had he been thinking? It was not at all like him to lose control, especially not around a stranger. That's exactly what had happened, though. Damned Misaki Takahashi had walked into his life at Takahiro's request and against Akihiko's better judgement. Everything he knew about this kid pointed to him being an idiot entirely unworthy of his efforts, and, he couldn't help thinking, at least partially unworthy of Takahiro's unswerving devotion. But Takahiro had practically begged, and pouted, sweetly oblivious to how beautiful he was, and Akihiko found he could deny his beloved nothing.

He'd cultivated his glamour for years, and he hadn't met anyone yet who could pierce it. He'd dropped it that once, when he'd given in to Hiroki's disastrous seduction. His closest friend, the one person who knew him best, fled in horror at the pathetic creature he really was. It wasn't until afterwards that he realized Hiroki had thought he loved him, that his come-on had been a desperate attempt to share those feelings. Hiroki had learned that it was not possible to be Akihiko's lover and have the kind of dignity that was so necessary to Hiroki's self-concept.

In the days since he'd met Misaki, the boy's wide eyed appraisal wouldn't get out of his head. He felt like he'd been stripped, examined and found wanting. It had bothered him. It still did. The kid couldn't be more unlike his book-smart, oblivious brother whose generous optimism had kept Akihiko rapt and frustrated for years. That expression, those eyes that _saw_ him, pissed him off to no end. He was also more fascinated than he was willing to admit. That very first day, when Misaki had slipped passed him and slammed the door to his bedroom, he'd had to resist the urge to follow the boy. 'Look at me again.' He wanted to say. It felt so strange. Those pretty doe eyes gazed on every dark corner of his soul, wary, but innocent, not cunning, not judging.

It had gotten to the point that even when he was jerking off, he couldn't focus on any of his go-to fantasies. He just felt those eyes on him. He didn't want to. What was so erotic about being _seen_ like that? He felt a hot surge in his groin just thinking about it. Now on top of that was the memory of Misaki's quiet moans, his dick rock hard almost as soon as Akihiko had touched him despite his protests, Misaki's stunned shuddering climax, and the primal, delicious taste of his come against bitter cigarette flavor of Akihiko's fingers; those flushed cheeks and the eyes, that, when they finally met his again, had only a tinge of hurt violation and were even more all seeing than before, demanding that Akihiko rip away everything he thought he was and throw himself at the mercy of this boy's strength.

'Stop!' He thought. This was the problem to begin with. He'd spent years guarding his precious friendship with Takahiro, holding everything in, and he'd snapped and molested that damned wise-eyed brat. What would Takahiro say when Misaki tearfully confessed that Akihiko had practically raped him? He wouldn't believe it. But he'd call to check it out. Which brought him back to the voicemail indicator on his phone, patiently waiting to condemn him and take away everything.

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**"After" is a short fic in two installments totaling about 800-2000 words, as many of my drabbles are likely to be. **

**Part two coming soon. **


	2. After 2

Akihiko let out a long, smoky breath and hugged Suzuki-san in relief. Misaki would be coming back. Takahiro didn't hate him. He wondered if three times a week would be enough. Perhaps Misaki ought to come more often. A few hours three days a week had been all he thought he could handle of having anyone in his home, but D's to A's in four months would likely take more. And somehow, the penthouse felt a little lonely.

He spent the remainder of the evening putting together lesson plans. Misaki had trouble dealing with abstraction, but he grasped concepts fine once he had concrete examples to work with. The kid wasn't at all stupid, he just didn't have the capacity to hold onto ideas that didn't appear to have any useful application. So all Akihiko had to do was couch each skill in a narrative that demonstrated its purpose and then keep Misaki connected to that and drill him relentlessly. When he'd finished, Akihiko emptied his overflowing ashtray.

He had the urge to call Misaki over again right now to get started. He'd like to make up for the rushed, forced, hand job by showing the kid a real good time. He imagined Misaki's green eyes through a haze of satisfied lust and admiration. Yes, that would be better that the unnerving knowing or the hurt ferocity that had replaced it today.

Akihiko shook his head to clear the image. What on earth was he thinking? 'Did I just imagine an affair with my true love's baby brother? God, I'm nearly as fucked up as Mother.'

Best to think of something else. Something safe. Akihiko started a new BL novel featuring the Takahiro at the beach, but he felt curiously uninspired. He went to bed and waited in vain for sleep to take him.


	3. Advice

**As always, thank you for your opinions and your encouragement.**

**I don't own Junjou Romantica or its characters, I'm just amusing myself (and hopefully a few others). **

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_Advice is set during Misaki's last round of finals._

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**Advice**

Misaki started down the main hall of the literature department despite his shaky legs.

He had handed in his final just before the exam period ended, fingers practically numb from handwriting responses to essay questions. Only one more exam to go and then he could safely collapse for a day or two before throwing himself whole-heartedly into his dissertation. So when Kamijou had taken his booklet and barked, "Takahashi, in my office. Twenty minutes." He'd almost had a heart attack.

"Yes, sir." Misaki gulped. Hadn't Kamijou already told him he'd passed his written assignments?

So here he was, a safe five minutes early, knocking on Kamijou's office door with a trembling hand.

The door was yanked inward so hard he nearly fell, and Kamijou slammed it behind him. This was definitely not good. Misaki scrambled to recall what he possibly could have done wrong.

"I'm passing you, even though I think you're an idiot. This is personal."

Was that supposed to be reassuring?

"Professor, did I do something to offend you?" Misaki asked. He certainly didn't want to cause anyone, even demon Kamijou, any trouble, but he just couldn't think what this could possibly be about.

"Sit."

Misaki took a seat as the professor slipped behind his desk. He looked a bit less intimidating framed by stacks of books.

"What are your intentions regarding Akihiko?"

Intentions? Oh no! could Kamijou possibly suspect something close to the truth about his relationship with Usagi? Definitely not good.

"Well?" Kamijou barked, "Are you going to answer or are going to stare with your mouth hanging open."

"Professor," Misaki hedged, "I'm really not sure what you're trying to get at here."

"Don't bullshit me! I know exactly what it means that you're living with Akihiko. He's my oldest friend, and that he's let you into his life the way he has is remarkable, but Akihiko is more delicate than he seems."

"I know that." Misaki said. Did Kamijou think he could have lived with the man for four years and not figured that out?

"So what," Kamijou growled, "are your intentions? Is this just a convenient fling for you? Is it over as soon as you're out of school and capable of living on your own?"

Why was this all anyone could talk about any more? Misaki wanted more than anything to stay. He'd never liked to be alone, and for just one day even his brother's company couldn't stop him from missing Usagi with a desperation that frightened him.

Takahiro expected him to move out and become independent. Now here was Kamijou threatening him if he did. Not that it was any of his business any way.

Still, Misaki liked the professor infinitely more for it. He was only person, aside from Usagi-chichi, who seemed to really care about Usagi-san's feelings.

"Well?" Kamijou asked.

Takahashi's reply was broken by a sob. "I- I don't know what to do!"

Hiroki instantly felt bad for making the young man so upset. He'd been concerned with how deeply worried Akihiko had clearly been the last time he dropped by, and he felt like he had a duty to protect his friend. The idea that someone might be playing around with Akihiko's too fragile heart pissed him off.

Now he felt like he'd somehow stumbled into volunteering for a role as their freaking couples therapist. 'Dammit, I am not good at this type of shit.' He thought.

For lack of a better idea, he leaned across the desk and gave Takahashi's shoulder an awkward pat. Some people cry pretty. This kid was just a mess, and he showed no signs of stopping any time soon. Hiroki passed a box of tissues and leaned back in his chair.

After quite some time, Takahashi finally managed to pull himself together.

Could this get any more uncomfortable? This was seriously the last time he would try anything like this. Still, it wouldn't do to show weakness now. "What exactly are you so worked up about? It's a simple question. Either you love Akihiko and you want to stay with him, or you're just playing and you're going to split as soon as its convenient for you."

"It's not that simple. If I could just think about myself and what I want, it would be, but -"

"Well, if it were just about what you want, which would it be?" This was the most important thing, after all.

"I-" Takashi flushed rather prettily "That is-I mean-"

"Spit it out already would you!"

"The-the first thing you said."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"So what's the problem?"

"Well, my brother has taken care of me since I was little because my parents died, and - "

'Holy shit!' Takahashi. How could I have missed it. Akihiko's partner is Takahiro's brother.' Hiroki felt his brain screech to a halt for a moment.

"Professor?" Takahashi was looking at him, evidently waiting for him to pick his jaw up off the floor. "Something wrong?"

"I didn't know." Hiroki murmured. "Your Takahiro's baby brother."

Takahashi nodded. "I know; it's kinda screwed up. It was weird for a while. I'm pretty much over that part by now. And I'm not a baby. I'm 22 years old."

When Hiroki didn't say anything, he went on. "I guess maybe you know how good Nii-san has always been to me. He basically gave up what he wanted for his life to take care of me, so I owe him a lot, and I always try not to cause him any trouble."

"He doesn't know about your relationship?"

Takahashi shook his head. "He might die of shock if he found out. He thinks I'm just freeloading off of Usagi-san, which I mean, I guess I kind of am except that taking care of that weird guy is basically a full time job in itself."

The kid looked at him, probably scared that such a comment would put him back in mama bear mode, but Hiroki just laughed. He didn't doubt it was true.

"Anyway, Nii-san wants me to join society and become an independent man, and he thinks its really important that I live on my own and I can't disappoint him after everything he's done for me, but I really want to keep living with Usagi-san." He quickly added "and I'm not going to just freeload. I have a good job lined up already, so I'm going to be a real adult and everything anyway."

"So," Hiroki said, "Your brother wants you to be an independent adult, and in order make him think you've achieved that, you're going to follow his wishes even though he isn't informed enough to have a valid opinion about what's best for you. You don't want to tell him what's really going on, so you're considering giving up what you think is the right choice in order to keep up appearances and make your brother happy."

"I guess, though when you say it like that, it sounds pretty stupid."

"It is stupid."

"What?!"

"Takashi, part of being an adult is using all your resources to make what you believe is the right choice for your life, even if that means disappointing someone who cares about you."

"So, if I don't do what Nii-san wants, I actually _am _ doing what he wants by becoming independent, but he won't know."

"I might not have put it exactly that way, but, essentially, yes."

"Huh." The young man was thinking so hard Hiroki feared his brain might combust. "Is there anything else?"

"What? No. Just remember that if you break Akihiko's heart I might have to hunt you down and kill you." Somehow, he didn't think Misaki quite believed it.

"I'll be going then. Thank you, professor. You helped me a lot."

And with that, Takashi practically bounced out of the office. Hiroki could hear him humming down the hall.

Two days later, Hiroki found the most beautiful fruit tart he'd seen outside of Paris on his desk when he returned from a meeting. In it's center was a with a small note on heavy yellow paper folded into the shape of a rose, that simply said "Thank You."


	4. Treasure Chest

**Two days in a row? I've definitely had a bit of time on my hands this week. **

**I do not own Junjou Romantica. **

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_Treasure Chest takes place during the first year Misaki lives with Akihiko._

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**Treasure Chest**

Akihiko woke feeling like he could sleep another half a day at least if it weren't for his bladder and the two whole pots of coffee he drank last night. He'd seen dawn before he finished the first draft of his new novel.

Misaki had practically force fed him water and abalone porridge, doubtless out of concern for his health. He'd obviously been half-passed out already, or the way Misaki had been manhandling him would have led to something other than total black out. Come to think of it, Misaki must have somehow carried him to bed.

He was fairly sure he'd have to completely rework the ending anyway. There were a few turns of phrase that captured the feeling he wanted, but they were buried by twenty pages of crap.

He hadn't been able to focus well at all. He kept thinking that this was certainly the most atrocious drivel he'd ever produced; several times he'd been tempted to delete the whole manuscript and start from scratch. He had called Aikawa at three in the morning to tell her he quit, and after quite a lot of shouting, he found himself slogging on.

He'd taken to firing off a copy of the file to her email every time he managed to make it through one of these fits, just in case. He hoped he'd remembered to send her the finished draft. He must have done, given that she hadn't burst in screaming as he slept.

After relieving himself, Akihiko made his way to the kitchen. He found a thermal carafe full of still hot coffee and a glass mug, presumably of the appropriate heat resistant type, beside it. The mug weighted a sheet of paper completely covered in Misaki's efficient scrawl.

"Dear Usagi-san, I emailed the draft to Aikawa because you passed out without sending it. I've made coffee because I'm sure you want some, but please try not to drink too much. You'll give yourself an ulcer. Also, there are a few different meals in the fridge (no green peppers in anything because you were good and finished your work). Please, please, please follow the directions when heating it up. I wrote it out clearly on the top of each dish. I don't know what you managed to do to the inside of the microwave last time, but it took a really long time to clean it. Oh and I have the weekend off. I wanted to go visit a park then see Lee Shin and Lee Gyu Won play at my college. Remember I told you about them, the ones who play electric guitar and gayageum together? They just got married a little while ago so it's a honeymoon tour. So romantic! Ah crap, I'm running out of space and I have to get to class. See ya. M."

Akihiko couldn't help laughing at the solid block of text that got smaller and smaller towards the end of the page. Misaki tended toward rambling, even on paper.

He read the little note again and again as he sipped black coffee. He could almost hear Misaki's voice. Akihiko wanted to go grab him out of class and bring him home right now, but if he did that, the weekend would be lost to long, irritating silences.

Instead, he took the paper upstairs, kissed it gently in something very like worship. He slipped it into the old shoe that had held only precious things since he was five years old. Was it sad that in twenty-three years had not filled the little box? Maybe, but things were looking up. Misaki had a habit of almost carelessly leaving little treasures in his wake.

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**So, sweet ones, funny story about this drabble and how it practically wrote itself: I started off intending to write a lemon, got to the end, thought "I think it's done. I like it, but I don't think it's what I meant to write." Then it took me a good five minutes to figure out where I had actually been trying to go. So I guess I'll try that one again at some point. **

**Thank you for your wonderful reviews and encouragement.** **You really do keep me going. I'm always open to your constructive criticism and ideas as well. **


	5. Craving

**Oh happy day! I managed to find a first edition copy of ****_Orlando_**** in the used bookstore! If you can't tell from my screen-name, I'm freaking huge fan of that book. But then, how could I not be? It's a gorgeous, gender bending love song in prose in which Virginia Woolf writes her real-life friend and lover as the fictionalized embodiment of the history of English Literature. Equal parts flirty, profound, and surreal. **

**Okay, fangirling over classics time done now. Maybe with all that literary enthusiasm I should do something from Hiroki's point of view soon. Haven't written any Egoist at all yet.**

**Now- on with the show: I do not own Junjou Romantica or its characters.**

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_Craving takes place while Manami is pregnant with Mahiro. _

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**Craving**

Misaki fumbled the phone off the hook; he winced at the crash that must have gone through the line. He stretched and tugged the receiver toward himself with a fingertip, ineffectually trying to push Usagi's arms from around his waist with his other hand. Lord knows what the caller was thinking right now.

Finally, he got the phone. He mouthed a silent "get off of me" at Usagi who was kneeling on the floor between his legs, but the bastard just laid his cheek against Misaki's bare stomach and grinned insufferably. "Ah, Hello" He said, pointedly ignoring the gentle scrape of sparse stubble across his abdomen.

"Misaki, thank god!" Takahiro sounded a bit frantic.

Misaki sat bolt upright on the edge of the bed, Usagi let him go with a questioning look. "Nii-chan? What's wrong? Did something bad happen?"

"No, no. I don't mean to worry you." Takahiro said, "Everything's fine more or less, it's just I need ask a favor of you."

"Sure. What?"

"So, you know when you came for our housewarming on Saturday and brought those tofu dumplings?"

"Yes?" Misaki wasn't really sure what dumplings had to do with anything.

"So Manami apparently got kind of hooked on them. I tried to make them myself. I bought her some from the store, and apparently it's not good enough compared to yours."

"Oh?" Was that all? "You want me to make some more?"

"You're my savior! Misaki is the sweetest, most wonderful boy in the whole world!"

"I'm not sure it's that big a deal, Nii-chan."Misaki scratched at the back of his head.

"But there might be something in them that the baby needs. Isn't that why pregnant women crave stuff?"

"I dunno. There's nothing special in them." Misaki doubted that there was anything particularly nutritious about his dumplings, but he certainly didn't mind making more. "I'll make lots, okay? You want me to drop them off later?"

"I can come to you, Misaki, I'm already taking time from your studies."

"It's not a big deal. Aren't you trying to get the nursery ready today? You don't have time to run all over town. I'll bring them. I think I need to go to the store first, though. Give me a few hours, okay?"

"You are a life saver, Misaki. You really are the best brother ever. My kiddo will be so lucky to have you to look up to." Takahiro was always a little too exhuberant.

"It's really not a problem. I'll see you in a little while, okay?"

Usagi looked at him, still a bit concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Misaki said, "Apparently Nee-san is having some major pregnant lady craving for those dumplings I brought over last time, so I'm going to make another batch for her. I guess with the hormones and all, she must have been pretty . . . intense. Nii-chan sounded really stressed."

"Misaki should make some for me, too, or I'll get jealous." Usagi pouted.

"You don't even like sweets, you big idiot!"

Usagi just looked up from where he knelt at Misaki's feet, pouting and fluttering his long lashes before purring, "You're wrong. Misaki is very sweet, and if you're cooking now you're going to make me wait for what I really want." He glanced significantly at Misaki's crotch and licked his lips.

Misaki suppressed the shiver that ran through him as he was assaulted by memories of the skill and enthusiasm with which the great lord Akihiko Usami worshipped his body.

He shook the images from his mind. 'I _do not_ want to do any perverted stuff!' Misaki instructed himself, though neither his heart nor his body seemed to heed the sliver of sense left in his mind. It was not at all fair that he could get like this from just a cuddle and a few words.

"I'll take good care of you later, my Misaki." Akihiko rumbled against the boy's body, breath hot on bare skin. "I'm craving my Misaki writhing in excruciating pleasure for hours. If we start now, you won't be going anywhere., and you've just made a promise to your brother." He made a show of taking in Misaki's flushed face, accelerated breathing, and the strained fabric of his jeans.

Smirking at Misaki's poorly hidden impatience, Usagi stood up and took the boy's hand. He licked at the inside of his wrist with a pointed tongue before pulling him towards the door, obviously intent on tagging along for grocery shopping.

Misaki struggled to clear his mind, then tripled his estimate of the time it would take to gather ingredients.

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**Once again, thank you much for your reviews and encouragement. Feedback totally makes my day. **

**So, for now, the M rating on this series has been just in case. "Craving" could have a very smutty part two or end here (I tried to wrote the non-smutty follow up already and trashed it because it was extremely dull). What do you think, sweet ones? You guys want a lemon chapter or is the sexiness level good where it's at?**

**Probably I don't need to ask that question at all. You're all a bunch of yaoi fangirls and boys; of course you want smut.**

**P.S. I naturally tend towards fluff with maybe a bit of tease. I make no promises as to my citrus writing capabilities.**


	6. Satiety

**It's been a while, dears. This has been a challenging chapter to write and took longer than anticipated. I'm really not sure about it all, but I'll cast it out to you and welcome your constructive feedback.**

**I don't own the Junjou Romantica characters. I'm just having a bit of fun.**

**Please be aware that this chapter contains explicit male/male sex.**

**If you prefer not to read that type of material, or are not of legal age to do so, stop reading and click out now.**

**And for those of you who want exactly that, well, welcome to the lemon grove. Settle in and make yourself comfortable.**

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**Satiety **

**Direct Continuation of 'Craving'**

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"Shall we?" Usagi asked as he opened Misaki's door and lifted the plate from his hands. "Surely you don't want to keep your sister in law waiting when we're already here. Why could it be that you are just sitting in the car?"

"You damn well know why, you fucking bastard!"

Usagi had decided to entertain himself on their drive over by narrating, in his infuriatingly sexy voice, all the things he planned to do to Misaki when they returned home. Misaki's irritation at Usagi's antics was heightened by stifled desire. That shit-head knew he could turn Misaki on just reading the damned phone book in that bedroom voice of his.

"Frustrated? Shall I take care of your enticingly _large_ problem before we head in? I want to suck you so bad."

Misaki breathed deep, in a vain attempt to calm himself. The magically comforting smell of Usagi-san mingled with a throbbing pheromone back beat. Misaki felt boneless lust overtaking him. This definitely could not happen here.

"We are in Nii-san's parking lot, you perverted old man!"

"Doesn't that just make it dirtier?"

"Stop saying that like it's a good thing! Get away from me, seriously." Misaki held onto his irritation like a lifeline. Usagi shouldn't be reckless enough to do this _here _of all places.

"Yeah, yeah." Usagi gave up and set the tray on top of the car. He lit a cigarette.

He was stubbing it out on the pavement by the time Misaki had collected himself.

The apartment door opened on a ripe Manami. Misaki thanked his lucky stars the he hadn't been born a woman. "Misaki-kun, thank you so much. You really are as angelic as Takahiro has always said." She kissed his cheek.

"It's nothing, nee-san. I'm happy to help."

"Manami, may I?" Usagi set the tray on a table.

She nodded. Usagi knelt and laid his head against her stomach. He'd repeated this ritual at every encounter since Manami felt the baby move. When Misaki had asked why, Usagi just said "I have to listen so the child can tell me its name." As if that were perfectly reasonable. Misaki in no way wanted to encourage Usagi's weirdness, but he secretly found this particular eccentricity endearing.

As the author stood, Takahiro entered in a threadbare t-shirt and ripped jeans, smelling of paint. "Would you two like to stay for dinner?"

"I'm sorry. As much as I would love to, I'm afraid I have plans." Usagi responded smoothly.

"Oh. Yes. I'm sorry. You must be busy. Misaki, what about you? You could stay and take the train home later."

"Oh, umm-" .

"I'm sorry, Takahiro." Usagi jumped in, before Misaki could claim escape. "I think I've mentioned how much of an inspiration he is, but Misaki also does quite well as a research partner. I'm afraid his _schedule_ will be very full tonight as well."

"Ah, of course." Takahiro said. "Misaki, there's no need to blush. You should be proud of a compliment from Usagi-chan."

Misaki wondered if his brother really was an idiot. How could anyone miss the lewd suggestion in Usagi's tone?

This had to stop. Right now. "I got it. Let's go, then." He grabbed Usagi's sleeve and pulled him to the door. "Nii-san, Nee-chan, let me know if I can make anything else for you. I like to help. See ya!"

The slamming door clipped Takahiro's confused good-bye.

Usagi resumed his explicit narration on the drive home, and while the older man, to a casual observer, might appear composed, Misaki could tell he'd gotten himself well and truly worked up. Misaki exited the vehicle almost before Usagi had brought it to a complete stop. The last time they'd done _that _in the car he'd had a crick in his neck for days.

The apartment door clicked closed. Misaki felt the cool wall against his bare back as Usagi rucked his shirt up. The AC was cranked and he shivered at the chill of the air and the wall and the sure hands mapping his skin. He tilted his head to bare his throat to attention and slid one arm around Usagi's warm, solidity. Misaki grabbed Usagi's ass with his other hand and pulled up to his heat.

Misaki returned Usagi's fierce kiss; he felt himself lifted. His shoulders slipped against the sweat slick wall, and he ground into Usagi's hips and tried to hold his own weight. He tightened his limbs around his lover. In these moments, Misaki could not regret his stature. If he weighed much more, he would lose the secret pleasure he took in clinging to Usagi like a vine on a trellis.

Somehow, tangled as they were, they made it up the stairs and through the cluttered bedroom without disaster, though the dull throb in his shoulder told Misaki that a fresh bruise would soon bloom where Usagi had pinned him to the doorframe to remove their shirts. For now, it was all a tide rushing in, one sensation surging to crash hot on the heels of the last.

Akihiko pushed Miskai back onto the mattress and crawled over him, cool fingers working his fly and sweeping his shorts away. He buried his mouth and nose against Misaki's balls and inhaled through dark grey cotton. He could feel Misaki's cock twitch against his cheek. He would get there; for now he courted the high only Misaki's scent could induce.

Akihiko found himself again amazed that this perfect creature accepted him, loved him even. Misaki, always overflowing so gloriously, he could perhaps never understand the staggering depth of Akihiko's emptiness. Tears blurred as he clung to Misaki's waist and breathed. The throbbing ache of his dick pulled him back to the moment, and he nipped up the silk-soft skin of Misaki's belly before attending again to sensitive nipples.

Akihiko looked down at Misaki's eyes, half-closed and dilated near black. God, that expression was beyond sexy. "You." He said, pressing kisses everywhere, "are so precious."

And then he yielded his mouth to Misaki's probing tongue.

Slim, iron strong fingers wound in his hair and pushed him firmly down. Misaki might not be able to say the words, but his want was clear.

He grazed the base of Miskai's cock through his underwear and inhaled another hit of his sweet aphrodisiac bloom. He let his joy overflow in a low humming laugh. "What do you want, Misaki?"

Akihiko looked up. Misaki flushed beautifully and covered his face. "Usagi-san, please." The boy was desperate and he still couldn't say it. Honestly, how could a grown man be so utterly adorable?

Akihiko gently tugged Misaki's hand back to his hair as he slid his boxers down. He feasted on the sight of Misaki, mussed hair veiling shy lust and that soft-skinned wiry, body trembling. Akihiko's mouth watered at the sight of Misaki's splendid cock, fat and dripping obscene shimmer against the pale abdomen. Eyes beyond satisfied, he dipped down to taste.

Misaki squirmed and bucked deeper into his mouth; he wrapped a hand around Misaki's base to stop himself gagging. He couldn't quite close around that girth. Misaki pushed his head down again and again until Akihiko caught the rhythm.

Short minutes later, Akihiko felt Misaki tugging him away and whimpering. He didn't give in despite the ache of his jaw. He pinned Misaki's wrists to the bed and moved faster until he felt the pulse of release. He pulled back a little to take in the heavy bittersweet salt of Misaki's seed. It would likely feel better for Misaki to come deep down his throat, but Akihiko had never been accused of selflessness.

Usagi grinned like a demon and licked his lips. Misaki gasped as he felt that tongue cleaning him. His release had made him sensitive, and even gentle attention almost burned. Moments later, Usagi mouthed his balls, lapping and sucking lazily until Misaki's cock firmed again. The vibration of his laughter was sweet. "So resilient." Usagi purred. He pulled Misaki's hand off the crumpled sheet and wrapped it around his waking dick. "Touch yourself, Misaki."

Misaki felt so mortified he would surely die at any moment, but he wanted to give Usagi something after he'd done that shameful thing to please him. Shaking more from nerves than lust, he began to play with himself. He was so distracted y his embarrassment that he Usagi's tongue caught him by surprise, anointing his entrance and probing inside pointed. "Usagi! Where do you think you're licking? So dirty!"

"Obviously, I'm tasting Misaki's delicious ass right now." He continued his incredibly intimate assault.

Misaki disapproved. His own hand was sliding quicker on his shaft, and Usagi's attention was making him desperately crave more penetration. As if reading his mind, Usagi mouthed Misaki's balls again and slipped one finger in, then another. Misaki stopped stroking himself as Usagi met his eyes.

"Are you ready for me, love?"

Misaki nodded. He was more than ready, and the gentle care in Usagi's tone might break his heart.

He watched Usagi shove his pants and boxers half off and run the lube-slick hand that had so recently been inside him over his fascinating cock. Usagi nudged his opening. He tensed but tried to breathe through the sting as his lover pressed in slowly. He wanted this so badly. Relaxation came easily, and Usagi thrust deep with one long stroke.

Misaki had tensed again at the sudden fullness. Usagi's swift entry hadn't hurt, but being filled like this never stopped feeling odd. Usagi trembled, his eyes rolled back, and Misaki knew he was struggling to remain still. Misaki was nearly ready when Usagi lost that battle and broke the bonds of control.

Misaki felt a little proud. He liked this proof of the power he had over Akihiko Usami. The great and brilliant sensei moaned a chorus of tattered "I love you's" without restraint, and Misaki made a harmony without any words at all.

The harsh rhythm of Usagi's thrusts took ruled. His breathing, his heartbeat, and his mind, everything pounded to kaleidoscope shards. Misaki tightened his abs and arched against the bed, lifting his hips so that Usagi slid against that one singing spot inside him with every long stroke. He did not want this end; he could not take much more.

Finally, he gave in and clung to Usagi, grinding up against him He gasped an unintelligible "I love you" as his seed pumped over their bellies, and a bare moment later, Usagi flooded him in release.

Usagi collapsed onto him. Long moments later, Usagi withdrew and flopped onto his back. They lay side by side in shared silence.

Misaki rolled off the rapidly cooling wet spot, and vaguely considered a shower. He felt like a very happy pile of goo, and Usagi was beside him not yet quite asleep. Clean-up could wait. He just wanted to close his eyes. He pressed against Usagi and tugged a blanket over them. A cool hand claimed his waist, and sleep took them both.

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**And there we have it - the first lemon I've written since I was 14. Thank you for taking the time to read. I'd love to know what did or did not work for you, specifically, and you felt about my characterization. I definitely struggled to balance blocking and character without letting the prose get ugly.**

**While revising today, I've had the entire Frightened Rabbit catalogue looping on my stereo. I think it helped somehow. I'll leave you with a few lines from "Behave"**

Okay stab.  
Okay stab.  
And please me, I don't care how.  
Stab me and please me now,  
Oh, with your mouth.  
Big bad ape in a prison room.  
He's just itching to telephone you,  
Oh, with his mouth.

Behave, behave.  
I don't know quite how to behave.

Patience, patience.  
Leaves me with dross to bear  
Leaves me, I don't know where.


	7. The Professor's Double

**Hey, look another update. Hopefully this makes up for making you wait for the last one. Anyways, Egoist fluff ahead. **

**I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of its characters. **

**A good friend of mine has insisted for years that cats live in used bookstores to guard against anyone unworthy learning The Secret of Cats. I'm not saying it's true, but it gave me an idea.**

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_The Professor's Double takes place while Nowaki is studying in America._

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**The Professor's Double**

"Hello!" The girl behind the counter smiled, braces flashing. Nowaki waved a greeting. He liked Julie, her brisk kindness reminded him a bit of mother Kusama.

She was only a few inches shorter than Nowaki himself, but she was very young. Sixteen maybe. She wore her chesnut hair in a messy pony tail and slumped in a giant hooded sweatshirt and baggy jeans.

"You want the usual?" She asked.

"Yes, please."

"I need to brew another pot, so it'll be a minute, okay?" She shifted the box she'd had propped up on one curved hip to the counter. "You don't have to wait. I'll find you."

Dismissed, Nowaki wandered cramped aisles and trailed his fingers along dusty spines. He heard a fierce scrowl as his foot encountered something living. He jumped back. A slim grey cat glared at him in reproach. "Sorry, little guy." Nowaki hadn't put any weight on the small creature, so he knew it was alright. He reached toward the cat. It growled and swatted at him. After fixing him with a disdainful yellow gaze, it strutted off, cool as you please. Nowaki followed, amused to see the cat walk just a bit faster as he increased his own pace. If he tried to scoop it up, it would bolt.

The cat mewled, jumped to the top of a low shelf and sat down on a folded towel. "Your escape plan has a flaw, pretty kitty." He continued his approach. "Your home base is not as hidden as you seem to think." The cat just watched him, proud and wary.

He held his hand out and the animal gave an exploratory sniff then flicked its tail and laid down, small head pillowed by a stack of paperbacks. Nowaki left his hand at the edge of the shelf for a moment then gently stroked the soft feline head. He was rewarded with a rumbling purr.

When his hand stilled for a moment, the cat nudged at him. He resumed his petting. It was a small, insignificant affection, but it eased some of the ache he'd been courting here, surrounded by the smell of old paper and ink.

He jumped at the sound of a cough behind him and the cat took off, tail puffed. It was just Julie with his coffee. "I'm so sorry." She was very red. "I really didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright."

"I'm impressed. Professor Meow Meow doesn't usually let anyone pet him."

'Professor Meow Meow' that was too funny. Maybe he should try that nickname out on Hiro-san when he got home. Nowaki shrugged. "He's a proud creature, but he's affectionate enough. I like to think I have a way with that sort."

Julie giggled and batted her lashes at him.

"So what does professor meow meow teach?"

"Duh. Literature. He lives in a bookstore." Julie couldn't match Nowaki's straight face, and soon Nowaki had to set his coffee down to keep from spilling it because they were both doubled over in fits of giggles. The cat reappeared and glared at the continued disturbance of his perch.

"Okay, professor." Nowaki bowed. "We'll leave you to your books for now."

"It's nice to see you laugh." Julie said as she slipped back behind the counter. "You usually look kind of sad."

Nowaki nodded, but didn't answer. He sat down at a small table with his coffee and pulled out a fresh sheet of letter paper.

"Dear Hiro-san," He started. "I must miss you more than I thought (already a lot) because I just seriously wondered if you might have sent me your soul in cat form. Go ahead and comment on how dumb that is. I know you want to."

His progress was halted as the feline professor hopped up and took a demure seat on the page, daring him to complain. Nowaki knew better. He laid his head down next to the warm little body and tried to send all his love halfway around the world on the frequency of a gentle purr.


	8. Reflections

**Hello, sweet ones. Thank you so much for reading and for your reviews. They keep me going. My email went nuts and decided not to send me updates from . I was so bummed and felt all unloved until I realized you were reading and reviewing after all, I just wasn't getting notified. Your feedback really does keep me going. I suppose it's no surprise. After all, writers are weird, frequently introverted performers, but performers all the same. **

**Anyways, this very short little drabble is for Daniel Lazarus/Don't Preach, who wanted to see Akihiko and his mom. A slightly longer one is in the works as well. **

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****_Reflections takes place during Akihiko's childhood in England. It is told from his mother's point of view. _

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**Reflections**

The boy is looking at her. Always, it seems, he is doing that. How many years now since she squeezed him pink and squealing from between her legs? Four, maybe five. Hard to say. She'd never been much at tracking time. No matter how hard she ran them down, the days and hours managed to evade her grasp, slip down to hidden streams and swim away or eddy out of reach.

"Good evening, Akihiko." A name to fit his father's scheme, though he is in her image, not that man's..

"Mother." The boy nods greeting. Mother feels wrong, but what else can she be called now? Poor child. A genius, certainly, they all say, like her father. Like herself, though no one says that anymore.

He looks at her, seeking depths beyond his own reflection. She keeps her mask on. She is only a mirror. She shows him pale hair, icy eyes, and milk white skin. He should not see the red and violent core of her. She loves him far too much. Her heart will break if ever he learns how fiercely she hates him.

When she can no longer bear his looking, she leaves him to himself. He resents her withdrawal, but he will understand in time. Loneliness is lighter alone.

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**That's all for now. Hope you enjoyed it, small as it was. I'll be doing a ten day writing workshop focusing on improving dialogue starting later this week, so I'm sure some of my practice pieces will end up here. And thank goodness, as dialogue is one of my weakest points as a writer. **


	9. First

**Well, sweet ones, it's been a little while. There are many good things in the works. Three more chapters of Hard Day's Night are nearly done. Unfortunately not the next chapters, but that's how it goes with me and longer pieces. Here's a little something for now.**

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_Akihiko's first day of high school._

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**First**

Akihiko shrugged Tanaka's hand from his shoulder. The servant's concern pissed him off. He supposed that if he were a better person, he'd be grateful anyone cared about him at all, but as things stood that ounce of compassion just underscored the absence of family and of friends.

His mouth felt dry. Tanaka had come around to open his door. As Akihiko stepped out, the clamorous buzz of students subdued. They studied him, the butler, the car. He was the eye in a hurricane of whispers. His stomach flipped. "You think going to a commoner school will change anything? You'll be even more of a freak there, dumbass." Hiroki's words careened through his head.

He looked for the glint of sunlight on chestnut hair. He hadn't let Hiroki make a final decision to his face. He wouldn't have been able to bear the past two weeks knowing for sure that he no longer had a best friend. Of course Hiroki wasn't here.

Akihiko hadn't begged so hard for anything since his mother told him they'd be moving to Japan in three days, and that no, he certainly could not see Michael again before they left. But Hiroki would never give up a top tier education, certainly not to follow Akihiko into this "futile exercise in self-delusion" as he'd so elegantly described it. Better than "slumming" which had stung doubly coming from Haruhiko, who had spent most of his life as a commoner.

Akihiko swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. So what if Hiroki had abandoned him? So had everyone else. He should be used to this by now.

And yet, he'd already ruined the better part of a notebook with horrible, melodramatic poetry. He should burn it. After all, even if it couldn't ever be the same, Hiroki would still be around.

Akihiko actually didn't know what might upset his friend more, that he had _those_ kinds of feelings toward Hiroki or that he'd been the muse for such terrible writing. Akihiko even knew he didn't really have the right to be mad. He'd been the one to suggest they have their first time together, just to get it over with, and then got a bunch of girly feelings about it. Hiroki hadn't acted a bit differently afterwards.

_Forget about it_. _Today is a new start. _

Tanaka cleared his throat. "Your bag, Akihiko-sama."

Akihiko realized he'd been drifting. He grabbed the bag from Tanaka's hand, painfully aware of how badly he stood out. "I'll take a cab home." He said. "Don't come." With a brief nod to the servant, he straightened his back and slipped through the huddled, murmuring teens. Each group he passed grew quiet and found the pavement ripe for detailed perusal.

Akihiko stood straight, keeping a cool, superior smile on his face. It was a fair approximation of the posture that allowed his father to go from being the "one who married in" to the universally respected Usami heir. Certainly that had been no easy feat among the traditional old money circles in either England or Japan.

As he made his way through the school, the pedestrian décor roused a kind of nostalgia in him. Could you be nostalgic for something you'd never had? For something you hoped for? _Nostalgia for the future. _That wasn't quite right, yet, but he wanted to play with it some more. _A good title. A poem, maybe. _After backtracking from two wrong turns, he spotted class 1-A off the main hall.

Akihiko examined the door to his homeroom. He was willing his racing heart to slow when a heavy impact spread across his back. A rib on his right side sang pain. Strong hands gripped his shoulders, and a boy's popped up in front of him.

"I'm so sorry!" The boy was close enough that Akihiko could smell the mint of toothpaste on his breath. When it was clear that Akihiko was not about to fall over, he stepped back and stuck out a hand, smiling wide. "I'm Takahiro Takahashi! Are you new here?"

The warm introduction evaporated Akihiko's anxiety. The neatly pressed uniform, the slightly smudged glasses and messy hair, and the aura of guileless affability were exactly what he had come here to find. Hiroki was wrong after all_. This sweet, normal boy will be my friend._

Akihiko returned the boy's smile with one of his own rare, genuine ones. "I'm Akihiko Usami. I just transferred. Nice to meet you."

"Yes. It's good to meet you, too." Takahiro kept smiling, though he looked a bit sheepish. "I'm really sorry for running into you like that. I never pay attention, it's one of my flaws. I was so worried I'd be late for the first day. Misaki was _so_ clingy this morning." Akihiko felt a surprising prickle of jealousy. Who was this Misaki? A girlfriend? Guys with girlfriends were annoying.

Takahashi grabbed his hand and hauled him into the classroom just before the morning bell began to ring. "Come on, Usami-kun." He pointed to a few open desks by the window. "Let's sit over there."

Akihiko followed in silence. He walked a step behind Takahashi and slipped into the seat behind him. "Who's Misaki"

"My brother. He's so adorable. Look." He held out a camera, and Akihiko shielded the small screen with his hand. As far as he could tell, it was just a photo of some ordinary little kid. The camera's resolution wasn't too great either. "It was his first day of kindergarten today, so I took him there with Mom."

"Oh. Cute." Akihiko said, unsure if that was the appropriate response. Apparently it was good enough, because Takahashi beamed even brighter.

"I'm glad you're all making friends already, but let's quiet down and get started." The teacher said with a pointed, but not unkind look at the two of them. "Let's go around the room and introduce ourselves. We can all help each other to work hard this year."

Akihiko was pleased to find that he shared almost every class with Takahashi. Of course, someone so perfect would be in the most advanced academic track. His new friend even invited him to have lunch with a group of boys who'd clearly been through many years of school together. Only Takahashi treated him like one of them, though. The others were very polite, which, even in Akihiko's social circle, was not a state natural to fifteen year old boys at their own devices.

Just as Akihiko about worked up the courage to ask Takahashi to grab a snack with him, the boy said "Hey, Mom and Mi-chan are here. I've gotta go. See ya."

"Yeah, see ya."

Akihiko pondered Takahashi's warm smile and little wave. Yes, this is exactly what he'd imagined a good person with a happy life should be like. What would it be like to come out of school and find someone waiting? Not a driver, but someone who came to see you because they loved you so much they didn't want to wait until you got home.

Takahashi bent down and scooped up a small child talking with great animation. _That kid is old enough for kindergarten? He's tiny. I guess he's cute, though. _

Akihiko watched the trio walk out of sight. He hailed a cab and hoped Haruhiko would not be at home.

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**Thank you for reading. If you have a moment, please review. Reviews are writer food. **

**xo Vita**


	10. Harlow's Albatross

**I wanted to get something posted this weekend, though I am unfortunately feeling rather brain-dead after rather demanding week. So, I give you a short snippet of a Morsel to tide you over until I can manage to edit some of the more substantial chapters I've got in the works. **

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"Harlow's Albatross" should perhaps have been called "Before," since I gave you "After" The scene, in Akihiko's perspective, immediately precedes his first tutoring session with Misaki.

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Harlow's Albatross

Project complete, Akihiko dragged toward his bed, unsteady, 'an albatross dragging on a deck,' he thought. Baudelaire had something with that, but Akihiko defeated the worst of that misfortune. Netted and brought down he may be, but no mocking sailors tormented him. Not on this lonely vessel.

_Maybe it's a funeral ship. _A glimpse in the mirror in lent credence to the supposition. _I look rather corpse-like._

_Yes_ he looked across his cluttered room _and these toys are grave goods for a stillborn childhood_ Akihiko wondered what afterlife these piles prepared him for and where he was bound. He knew he'd been awake too long when his exhausted mind indulged in such fetid metaphors.

He stripped, slipped on sleep pants, and laid Suzuki-san on the bed. Akihiko followed, snuggled up against his dear bear like Harlow's monkey, and let aching consciousness fade.

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**The first reference is to Charle's Baudelaire's Poem "The Albatross" which I've always found to be an apt description of the comedown from a particularly inspired bout of writing. The second is to the experiments done by Harry Harlow in the 50s which showed that baby rhesus monkeys separated from their mothers preferred a soft, comforting "mother" to a wire "mother" that provided food. **

**Anyways, your reviews do brighten my day quite a bit and inspire me to keep on writing, so please do let me know what you think. **

**I'm looking forward to catching up on many of your stories which I've seen have updated. One benefit to a crazy week is having lots stored up to read once things calm down a bit. **

**Much love, sweet ones **

**-Vita**


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